WARNING: CURMUDGEON RANT
OK, sure, I live in Arizona. The Cardinals lost. Yeah, I was disappointed. But the Superbowl was probably the fourth football game I've watched in my life. Its the third one I've watched in the past year including the last Superbowl that I watched with my son who was from Boston. (The last one before that was when Bart Starr lept over the top of the Dallas defense in the final seconds to win the AFC championship in ... ummm, 1966?) So, all that to say, this isn't sour grapes.... I'm not that invested in "my hometown team".
Anyway, I've probably gotten a dozen or more emails and seen as many blog posts about.... (I had to stop here to look up his name) Troy Polamalu, the Orthodox football player for the Steelers, who frequents St. Anthony's Monastery and talks to the Elder for spiritual direction. I guess that makes him.... what? Either an Orthodox Christian who happens to be a football star, or a football star who happens to be Orthodox.
If he's an Orthodox Christian who happens to be a football star, he's no different than any other Orthodox Christian. I know Orthodox Christians who happen to be secretaries, cable installers, CEO's, cooks, janitors, tile setters and recovering this and thats. All of them are serious about their faith, some of them even go to St. Anthony's and talk to the Elder. All of them are kinda screwed up in their own unique ways and are struggling to become like Christ in their private arenas. Whose spiritual warfare is harder, Troy or the cable installer or the cook? We don't know. But I do know no one sends around emails about them.
If he's a football star who happens to be Orthodox, he's no different than any other Orthodox Christian. The question we have to ask is "Why does his stardom (or anyone's stardom) add anything to our regard for him as an Orthodox Christian?" The answer to that question is probably more about us than about him. His icons are already all over the internet. His hagiography is published in blogs and emails. I'm sure that if it could be aquired, relics of his hair and Superbowl sweat and threads of his grass stained jersey would be coveted by many. But in reality he's a Steeler, not a Saint. Perhaps by the grace of God he will be a saint one day, but until that day the fact that he can tackle someone is no more a plus or minus to the work he has to do to attain sainthood than cleaning a toilet well, troubleshooting a cable connection or grilling a burger medium rare.
I think we would do well to temper our enthusiasm for Orthodox celebrities. Worldly accomplishments are admirable within a small set of parameters no matter what anyone does. I can't tackle Larry Fitzgerald, Troy probably can't frame a barrel vaulted ceiling. It just happens that if you can tackle Larry you can make 7 million a year and be watched by 3 billion people missing a tackle. But what does that have to do with being Orthodox? What makes us both Orthodox is the inner life and the spiritual warfare in the context of our unique lives within the Church. The spiritual warfare is just as intense and just as hard for the cable guy in a one bedroom trailer with a minimum wage job and a child on the way as it is driving home from the locker room of the Superbowl champions in a Ferrari.
OK, I do think its cool he's Orthodox. If I see him at St. Anthony's I might be tempted for a couple seconds to ask for his autograph or at least say hi to him so I can tell my kids I said HI to Troy. I'm still human. But so is he, and we should hold him in the same regard and with the same awe as the person who is standing next to us in Liturgy: both are seeking the Kingdom and both are in the arena in mortal combat with the devil for the salvation of their souls. And perhaps some day both will be Saints.